Paper Airplane

After the two finished their sweet breakfast, Aemeath's nerves, which had been tense for half the night, completely relaxed, and a heavy weariness washed over her like a tide.

After experiencing such emotional highs and lows last night, even someone in good health would find it difficult to cope.

Lu Yan gently coaxed and carried the sleepy Aemeath back into bed.

After seeing that Aemeath's breathing gradually stabilized, he gently tucked her in, drew the curtains tightly, leaving only a tiny gap for a sliver of light to filter through, before turning and leaving the room.

To avoid waking Aemeath, Lu Yan moved very quietly.

He walked to the storage cabinet in the living room, rummaged around for a while, and pulled out a stress ball that he used to use to relieve hand fatigue from the bottommost box.

The painful experience of squashing a tube of toothpaste in the bathroom is still fresh in my mind. If I can't control this impulse soon, it might mean that more than just a tube of toothpaste will be damaged.

It could be a water glass, a doorknob, or even something that accidentally hurt his precious little pink cat while hugging it.

Lu Yan took the pressure ball and walked to the French windows in the living room. Facing the bright morning sunlight, he began the extremely tedious grip strength adaptation training.

Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window for more than half an hour, after countless attempts, Lu Yan finally regained that precise sense of control that felt like an extension of his own arm.

"Phew... I finally managed to control it." Lu Yan breathed a sigh of relief and casually tossed the stress ball into the locker.

After finishing the adaptive training, he looked at the clock on the wall; it was only a little past eight in the morning.

The room was quiet, with only the sunlight slowly moving across the floor.

This long-awaited tranquility suddenly stirred Lu Yan's thoughts.

He looked down at his hands, which had just gained new power, then looked up at the stairs leading to the second floor.

It seems like... it's been a long time since I've properly drawn anything.

Lu Yan tiptoed up the wooden stairs to the second floor and entered his private studio at the end of the corridor.

Pulling back the curtains in the studio, ample natural light poured in, illuminating the computer desk and the highly professional digital monitor on it.

Lu Yan sat down in the familiar ergonomic chair and pressed the power button on his computer.

He gripped the pressure-sensitive pen that had been with him for so long.

The moment he gripped the pen, he deliberately controlled his strength, making sure he wouldn't break it, before confidently opening the drawing software.

Facing the pure white interface, Lu Yan narrowed his golden eyes slightly, lost in thought.

What should I draw?

Last night's incredibly vivid dream was certainly shocking; it belonged to Aemeath's heavy past.

Those souls who sacrificed themselves to light up the coordinates deserve to be remembered forever.

However, on such a bright and sunny morning, a time of renewal, Lu Yan did not want to paint those heavy things.

In his mind, the image of Aemeath in her dream, curled up like a small animal before the Tunneler, appeared.

Her longing for home resurfaced.

From a young age, Aemeath suppressed herself, depriving her of the carefree life she should have had.

"Now that I'm involved in your present, but not your past..."

Lu Yan's lips curled slightly. "Then I'll use my pen to draw a pure childhood that should have belonged to you."

The pen tip touched the digital screen, making a soft, rhythmic scratching sound.

And those newly formed golden eyes showed their advantage at this moment. His perception of color and control of lines reached a microscopic level that he never dared to imagine before.

He could even precisely capture the translucent, shimmering quality of sunlight filtering through pink hair.

The meadow was an endless, vibrant, lush green expanse.

In the center of this meadow, Lu Yan drew a small figure.

A Little Aemeath, who looked to be only about eleven years old, didn't have the mature, sophisticated aura she has now.

The Little Aemeath in the painting has soft, shiny pink short hair, which is tied into two playful short pigtails. As she sits on the grass, the pigtails sway gently in the breeze, and the edges of the hair are gilded by the sunlight.

Her cheeks were round and lovely, and in her large, golden eyes, there was only the purest curiosity about the world.

Lu Yan recalled what Little Aemeath looked like and dressed her in a set of Lahai-Roi clothing.

The clothes were adorned with Roy runes.

Lu Yan painted very slowly and meticulously, each stroke filled with the love of his beloved.

A talisman was placed on Little Aemeath's chest.

It rested quietly against the little girl's heart.

The most central visual focus of the entire painting is on Little Aemeath's raised right hand.

In that chubby little hand, a paper airplane was being held.

Little Aemeath tilted her head back, her golden eyes reflecting the azure sky, and a bright, untroubled smile bloomed on her face.

She was straining to raise the paper airplane in her hand as high as possible, as if in the next second, this paper airplane, carrying all the child's wonderful ideas, would ride the wind and fly into the vast sea of stars.

After an unknown amount of time, Lu Yan finally put down his pen.

He leaned back in his chair, gazing quietly at the painting on the screen.

Lu Yan's eyes felt slightly hot.

Looking at the carefree pink-haired girl on the screen, I imagined that if Aemeath hadn't been told those things, she would have been carefree chasing butterflies and flying paper airplanes on a grassy field like this when she was little.

She might have a boring but peaceful childhood, rather than constantly worrying about how to share the burden of Rover.

"It's a pity I didn't meet you sooner." Lu Yan reached out and gently touched the cheek of Little Aemeath the painting with his fingertips through the screen, his voice soft.

"But it's okay. I'll draw out the childhood you didn't have. I'll walk with you through the years to come."

Just as Lu Yan was immersed in these sad thoughts, a series of light footsteps came from outside the half-closed door of the studio.

"A-Yan ~" Accompanied by a soft, sweet call with a thick nasal tone, the studio door was gently pushed open.

Aemeath had just woken up, rubbed her eyes and walked in.

She was still wearing her pink pajamas, her long hair was a little messy from sleeping, and a stray hair sticks up playfully on her head.

"Why are you awake? Didn't you sleep a little longer?" Lu Yan immediately collected his thoughts, turned around, and opened his arms.

Aemeath walked up to him quite naturally, straddled his lap, hugged him with both arms, and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"I can't sleep. When I wake up and can't touch you, I feel so empty inside." Aemeath's voice was still groggy from sleep.

She closed her eyes and sniffed the comforting scent in Lu Yan's neck. "What are you doing? Didn't you say you hadn't gotten used to your strength yet?"

"I've gotten used to it, so I'm here to draw something."

Lu Yan chuckled, put one arm around her waist, and used the other hand to control the mouse, saving the drawing on the screen and then zooming it in to full screen.

"Look back," Lu Yan whispered in her ear.

Aemeath opened her eyes somewhat dazedly, lifted her head from Lu Yan's shoulder, and followed his gaze to the screen.

The moment Aemeath saw the screen clearly, her original slightly sleepy eyes suddenly widened.